by Alex Elliott
“It sounds like the type of expansion that will bring the roof down on our heads if we’re not careful. It’s not like we can run an ad in the Post.”
“Ben, last night, the bartenders were overrun with drink requests. I had to pitch in. You weren’t the only one called into service last night. All Doms were on deck, and we’ve never done that before. Every room sold out. And we’re booked for the next month. At least.”
Insofar as the House, what Xavia and I did was tame compared to the realm of discipline and domination. With her back to the audience, and the way I held her face—yeah, what the members glimpsed was damn tame.
“Hell, we held back. They’re reacting like we were in a dungeon and I flayed her open. Just what has got the members going, other than they were uninvited to my private party? This can’t be because they weren’t permitted a glimpse of my sub’s body or failed to witness me fucking her without mercy? There are other Doms with far edgier shows. Six other nights of every other week.”
A year ago, I derived the means to escape on an adrenaline infused high as a hardcore Dom. It was the only reason why I agreed to being part owner of this club. The money is over-the-top, but the constant attention required is nowhere near compensation in terms of time and hassle, and now with X...I glance up at her apartment. Clearly, my focus is elsewhere.
“You know how it goes. Tell a bunch of hard-asses what they can and can’t have, and Christ. That’s all those dudes want.”
“The haves and have nots,” I snap.
“Don’t get me started on the women members,” he crows.
The pressure inside my head builds. I close my eyes, rubbing my fingers across my forehead. I’ve got to set him straight. “Don’t book me for anything other than my sub. I’m back but my services are off the table.”
“Goddamn! Are you shitting me?”
Flashing open my eyes, I clench my jaw. “Look, you brought up the idea of expanding, so if we need to hire another Dom—”
“Fuck off,” he interrupts me. “I’m unwilling to listen to that noise. Aside from your personal history, Ben what’s the stumbling block here? One night back and you’re ready to step down? We’re being bombarded with requests for a special viewing of you and your sub. All sorts of offers. Be smart. You could become a very, very wealthy man.”
“I take it you have no idea who Ms. Excess is beyond the House.”
Silence. A beat. Then another before Jax speaks. “If you mean she possesses connections, is that anything new?”
“This time. Yes.” I put my car into gear, check the street, and pull out. One last glance up to her windows as I roll past.
“Need I remind you about breaking the rules?” His voice lowers. “If she’s working for—”
“Don’t say it,” I growl. We’re both aware that even though we switch cells every week, our lines aren’t secured when we’ve got the leader of the free world as one of our unnamed members. “How far up the chain is this request...now a priority? I’m not an asshole, Jax. You’re scrambling and this goes beyond a fucking payout or a security detail. Cocksucker, you of all of us have serious political aspirations.”
“Well fuck! Ben, you can’t be the only goddamn Dom who is ably climbing the White House rungs...Mr. Vice President!”
I floor the gas as I turn the corner and head for my apartment, peeling out as my tires screech. Rocketing down the street, I race against my rage. Jax and I have butted heads in the past, but never this heated or either of us with a shorter-than-hell fuse. “Obviously,” I growl between my teeth, “We both have issues. What the fuck is it that you really want?”
“You really want to know?”
“Jesus! If you’re playing games, how do you expect me to react?”
“Take my night.”
“Your night...this Wednesday?” I’m dumbfounded. Jax hasn’t missed a night in two years. He flies back from wherever he’s at and that in and of itself has set records. If he says he’s going to do something, on his word—he does it. No one questions him—he’s earned everyone’s respect. Unlike me. I’ve bent the rules, and now broken so many I’m the epitome of do as I say, not as I do.
“We’re night and day,” I reply, unclenching my jaw. I pump the brakes before I get nailed for speeding. This is so fucked up and exactly how he and I relate at times. It’s like he anticipates what’s eating me and supplies a solution. Only now, my hunger for more time with Xavia—I’m not so certain that equates with more time at the House.
“Look, can we meet and discuss this over lunch?” That’s code for doing this off the grid. He’s got something up his Speaker of the House sleeve.
I want Xavia, and Jax offering us another night has me downshifting. “Name the time and place,” I reply.
“You’re hosting a roundtable on Monday, so how about Tuesday? One o’clock. Let’s do lunch. O’Malley’s. Upstairs.”
“I’ll be there.” Shit. We only do O’Malley’s when things are truly fucked up. It’s swept by the CIA twice a day and the place where a handful of us actually are aware that it’s a safe spot to discuss business. A Hill and House top choice of where to eat lunch.
* * *
I’M IN my car, yet unlike the other times, I’m not incognito. Nor am I hunkered down, across the street in stalking mode of my sub. It’s Sunday afternoon, and I’m freshly showered, shaved, and parked in front of Xavia’s apartment entrance as the doorman tips his hat. She exits the lobby and that ever-present twinge in my chest sparks. I open my car door and walk around to meet her. Our gazes fuse, and I remind myself to shut my jaw that feels as though it just hit the sidewalk.
“Nice ride,” she says, eyeing my car. “Suits you.”
“It’ll do.” I catch her door, smiling down into her face. She sashays next to me, not touching me, but close enough to give me a whiff of her now familiar fragrance that acts like a magnet to my senses—drawing me to her. I grip the door—if I don’t, I’m going to haul her next to me and kiss her in a manner I’m certain will have her branded by her building staff. “You’re beautiful,” I say softly and she is—achingly so.
Wearing an off-white lacey summer dress that ends at the top of her knees, she has her hair up, and the tiny bows at each of her shoulders practically beg to be untied. “Thanks. You’re rather nice looking yourself, Senator.”
“I want to...” I stare at her mouth and she lightly snaps her fingers, her lips curling provocatively.
“Up here! Didn’t you get your fill last night?” She arches a perfectly sculpted brow, and I growl, frowning.
“Not even close.” When I take hold of her elbow, pressing my fingers along her skin, we both exhale and our gazes reconnect. All at once, a charge of electricity courses through my veins, discharging my hunger for her. Yet unlike a spring that is set free, my need for her fails to disperse. Fails to run dry. I’m turning into a black hole where she’s concerned.
I crave her.
Naked.
Under me.
After last night, fuck I don’t know—it’s like I’m a crazed lunatic where she’s concerned. The more we push boundaries, the more a voice in the back of my mind demands that I find where our boundaries lay. In truth, standing next to her in the sunlight today, I fear none exist. I’ll give her anything she asks for. The distance I’ll go for her—I’m beginning to understand it’s incomprehensible.
Helping her onto the front seat, I estimate how much time we have before we’re officially late in getting to the Naval Observatory. “We need to talk.”
X glances up into my face. “You say that...a lot.”
“Because we’re complicated,” I retort, releasing her arm and closing her door.
I decide against putting on my sunglasses. I want to see her unobstructed, and I imagine after what I’m about to relay, she’d appreciate me not hiding behind a pair of shades. Jax’s offer had me up for hours. It’s the only way I can deal with my hunger for X and remain sane.
Us having unbridled sex in m
y office will get both of us on a list of Capitol fuck-ups faster than if I snorted a line of blow in the Oval Office. Every media hound is on the lookout for a congressman doing something stupid. It goes with the turf. Rule number one: don’t take a bribe...and get caught. Rule number two: don’t get caught with your dick out of your pants. It doesn’t matter if it’s your wife, your mistress, or your intern. Fold it. And hold it.
Sliding behind the wheel, I meet her gaze.
“Here,” she says, slipping me an envelope, not unlike the first time she held out one to me just weeks ago. Christ, the distance we’ve traveled and it feels like we’ve known each other forever.
“This is?” I ask.
“The House forms. All signed. Thanks for giving me time to think. I’m in. Safe word and all.”
“Member one hundred and eleven,” I reply. “Did you ever imagine that kiss in the club would result in us together?”
She laughs softly. “Wished for. I take it, us needing to ‘talk’ has something to do with last night. What happened?”
“Pretty slick, aren’t you?” I stow the envelope between my seat and the console, then put the car into gear. I take the third right after the block her building occupies, and pull over.
“Is it that serious?” Her eyes widen. Blue crystal locks with mine.
The bluest eyes I’ve ever seen and I lean over the console. “Need something.” I reach out my hand, and spread my fingers along the back of her head. I draw her closer until we’re a hairsbreadth apart. “Tell me your safe word. Then kiss me.”
“Orion,” she whispers softly.
“Like the constellation?”
“Like the hunter.” Her eyelids flutter, and under my thumb, the vein in her neck pulses excitedly against my skin.
I need her. Want her. Can’t wait to take us over the edge. “Give yourself to me, Xavia. All the way.”
“Like what we did in Boston?”
“That kind of sex is almost taboo. It’s dangerous and intoxicating. Addictive.”
“I want more.” A tiny puff of air escapes her mouth, but without missing a beat, she leans and our lips meet. I let her take the lead, waiting and when she slides her tongue across mine, I press forward. She sweeps her piercing along my lips, teases me mercilessly. I remind myself, let her show me if she’s ready. Seductively, she starts pumping her tongue into my mouth as she shifts in her seat. X leans over the console farther as I incrementally pull back.
She’s unrifled; her hands mold along by jaw, drawing me to her. I relish how she arouses my hunger and I purposely refrain from yanking her hair undone. She uses her tongue in owning my mouth, and I want more. I want her to learn how to be assertive if not downright aggressive. This is so screwed up.
Never have I allowed a woman to take the lead. I drop my hands, floored at how incomparable this feels to have her pushing me back into my seat, biting my lips, and calling the shots in our first kiss of this kind. I’m cracking open the door. And she comes right through, proving that I’m spot-on in perceiving her potential. The distance that we’ll travel if I’m right, will be exponential.
She pulls apart from me and stares intensely into my eyes. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Fuck no!” I laugh out my response, all but biting my tongue to keep from admitting what I have in mind. She’ll bolt out of this car, down the block, if I don’t carefully consider how to broach the subject of so many things we need to discuss. The list is getting longer and longer. Every day, there’s something else to add. This girl fills me with question after question.
“Then why did you stop touching me?” she asks, her eyes wide. Unguarded.
Of course she’d notice and I rake my fingers through my hair. Can I be honest with her—let her into my future? She’ll have to know about my past. All of it. My fucked up family. My not so stellar connections I’ve buried. Erased the doorway from which I’ve come.
I clench my jaw. She already knows about my uncle—a little of that nightmare, and what I’ve shared is more than anyone else knows beyond Jax. The reason why I’ve held back from outright accepting the Veep’s offer. I won’t have my personal history used as a sound bite.
“Baby, I’m steeling my reaction to what I want to do.” Her gaze lowers to the bulge in my jeans. I press the heel of my palm down the outline of my hard-on. “X, I want to be buried inside you. This is unequivocal torture.”
“What do you suggest?” She leans closer to me, draping her arms over the console. That move forces her tits to press together, giving me a spectacular view of her cleavage.
Trailing my fingers along the edge of her neckline, I serve up what’s on my mind. “What would you say to us going to the House twice a week?”
“Is that possible?” She wets her lips as her eyes darken. “How?”
She’s priceless and hungry and perfect. “Wednesday night. Jax offered me his spot. Seems like we’re a hot commodity.”
“I’m not going to lie. I like what we did. A lot. I feel empowered. Is that crazy to believe? We were being watched and for once, I didn’t care about being in the spotlight.”
She has no idea that we were in a private room. Secluded. The next time, that room from what Jax said won’t be available. Right now, I’m not sure how I feel about sharing one single hair on this girl’s head. I doubt I could share fucking her in front of anyone. Ever.
“Your idea that this is your path to self-control isn’t off the mark. Plenty of people utilize various methods of desensitization. There are no judgments at the House. I’m not certain if your desire to tone down your reaction to being watched is what you need. That’s the quandary.” I’m feeding her desire for self-control by limiting her focus to me. What the fuck will she do when she learns, beyond the staged scenes, it was only us? I doubt she’ll buy my refusal to share her as some placebo I planned. She’ll get I’m a greedy, possessive prick.
She traces a finger across my arm. “Well, it all feels good. Too good... not to want more.”
“Then that’s a yes.” I raise my hand, sweeping my fingers along her cheek.
“Why are we a hot commodity? Correct me if I’m wrong, but we didn’t do anything outlandish in the world of kink.”
I shift in my seat. This is the moment of truth. All I have to do is admit what I’m feeling. I grip the steering wheel, almost wishing she’d say ‘no’ and refuse this moronic offer I just shared. “By playing it cool on stage, things heated up in the club. What happened last night isn’t the norm. I didn’t strip you bare on stage, and give those present the opportunity to bid on sampling you. That’s the routine in sub auctions. Look, I pushed aside another rule, if not downright trounced it and the backlash has caught fire.”
“But you didn’t break the rule. Did you?” She touches her fingers to my wrist, and winks. “I heard the conversation, Esquire Stone. How you used a little known loop hole.”
I glance down. She’s so goddamn smart. “Yeah. Well, fuck ‘em if they can’t take a joke.” Now would be the time for me to come clean. Or, I’d better sac up and get ready to fuck her within a privately viewed—elite screening. The sound of the leather scrunching under my hands fills the car. I want her and, hell, it’s true. I’ll give her anything she asks for—except sharing her.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Her voice comes out hoarse, and I turn to meet her unwavering stare. “Smoke. Mirrors. Don’t do that with me, unless you’d like the same treatment.”
Gazing into her eyes, I go for a white lie...just until I can figure out what the hell Jax is up to and how to deal with my over-the-top need to possess her. On the first of NEVER is when I’d let anyone else touch her, yet I’d be an idiot to believe she’s immune from hearing, or encountering the bylaws in snatches of conversation. As my submissive, she’ll have access to other parts of the club like the main room and bar area, and I need to let her know what I’m currently dealing with.
“There’s a club covenant which is why we get a hell of a crowd during a submi
ssive auction. After the Dom claims his sub, he allows another member to sample her in his presence. The sub must do as the Dom dictates. It’s an authority kind of thing.”
“To prove she’s under his command?” Her eyes flash to mine and I mentally kick myself, yet continue.
“Exactly. And if she fails, that member can sample her as many times as it takes until she obeys her Dom to the letter. With you, I bought some time with a little known bylaw which states I can affect my exclusive right to train you for up to ninety days before I allow a member to sample you.”
I watch as X’s face blanches, then her pale cheeks turn bright red. Her eyes widen. “How could you? You promised me to another member!” She lifts her hand and I catch her wrist before she can slap me across the face. She comes at me with her other hand, and I curl my fingers around both of her wrists, forcing her to be still. I deserve to have my face slapped, but she needs to hear me out.
Holding onto her wrists, I refuse to let go. “Before you, I didn’t care if another man sampled the submissive I trained. Whatever went down, didn’t faze me. I gained a hardcore reputation for training subs to perform on cue. Do you honestly think that I’d ever let another man or woman touch you?”
She’s panting as she stares up at me. Her pupils are immense and then her lids flutter, her brow creases, and she shakes her head. “Never in a million years.”
“That’s fucking right,” I growl. “Never. You’re mine.”
For several long beats, we silently regard each other.
“What’s the plan?” she whispers.
“That’s what I’m working on now. We need the House as our cover. Give me time to lay out the steps. You have my word, I’ll run it by you before I commit us.” I kiss her palm, protracted as I inhale her fragrance and savor the taste and texture of her skin against my lips.
I feel her trembling and I watch her, waiting. “Okay. I can live with that. I trust you.”
“You belong to me, Xavia. The only woman I’ve ever wanted to own completely. I crave you—every inch.”
